Read Online Wounds by Alton Gansky - Free Book Online Page B

shrugged. “Grief seems genuine. His first concern was to be with the body.”
    â€œJews like to do that. Grew up on a street with several Jewish families. Always treated me good. I assume the uniform is there to keep the man in one place.”
    â€œYes, sir.”
    â€œI also assume you explained that his friend won’t be buried right away.”
    â€œYes, he seems to understand. Doesn’t like it, but he understands.”
    Simmons put his hands into this pants pockets. “Look, I know you already have a fresh case, but the flu is going around. We’re down several detectives. Since you and Bud have got things underway . . .”
    â€œWe’ll take it, Cap. No problem.” Sleep is for the weak .
    â€œRight. No problem. I’ll help as much as I can. Whatcha need?”
    â€œYou could have someone run down the info for the vic. Address. Place of work. You know the drill. I also need these people moved back a few blocks. We think he was dumped here. If so, then we don’t have the event scene. The perp may have left clues on the street or sidewalk. Unfortunately, the place is well traveled. Maybe trace can narrow it down for us.”
    â€œOkay. What else?”
    â€œYou can get some of the uniforms to canvas the block and see if anyone heard or saw anything. They could search for video cameras.”
    â€œWill do. Keep me posted. Anything new on our Balboa Park vic?”
    â€œBizarre death. Seminary kid. He was studying to be a preacher.” She reiterated the first report from the ME.
    â€œA dough docker. I thought I’d seen everything. Apparently not. Keep me posted.” He started to turn, then stopped and gazed at her for a moment. “Good job, Detective.” He walked to a uniformed officer with three stripes on his sleeve and pointed up and down the street as he spoke.
    Carmen turned back to the crime scene. This was going to be a long day.

9
    G ood Friday. A special day. A day to be remembered. Not necessarily a day of celebration.
    Dr. Ellis Poe sat in the cramped confines of his Canadian Sailcraft yacht, sipping coffee and thinking about the day. Yacht . The word made him smile. Before inheriting the small craft from an uncle, Ellis thought the word applied only to large craft worth millions of dollars. His 1977, 27-footer was hardly worth seven grand these days. It didn’t matter. He had no intention of selling it or using it to impress anyone. The white craft with purple trim seldom left its mooring just off Coronado. He had been overjoyed to receive it and loved the boat most days. On those days when he had to fork over what little money he had for maintenance, marina, and anchorage fees, he loved the boat less.
    Poe wasn’t much of a sailor. On occasion, he would fire up the Yanmar diesel and motor into the bay, do a few laps, then return and tie up. He avoided open ocean, where the swells could rise and give him more of a ride than he wanted. Still, he kept the Blushing Bride . He considered changing the name, but that seemed disrespectful to the man who left the craft to Ellis.
    In braver moments, he considered sailing alone to Catalina. He would daydream about it. So far, he had only made the journey in his mind. He had traveled to Catalina Island on one of the ferries. Each time he had to fight seasickness. Better to let the Blushing Bride stay in the calm waters of San Diego Bay.
    Where some sailors used their boats for adventure and family outings, Ellis used it as a sanctuary, a place to hide from the crush of humanity that made up San Diego. He came here to be alone. He spent his weekdays in a condo in Escondido. He spent those days alone too, but the boat provided something different: a tiny hideaway. He also enjoyed the culture of those who lived on boats. Many were antisocial. No one ever came knocking on the fiberglass hull to ask for a cup of flour.
    Ellis rubbed his face and tried to concentrate on the work before him.